


Paradise

by Sidoh



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Incest, M/M, Sibling Incest, Spoilers, mild Self-harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 10:31:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9436235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sidoh/pseuds/Sidoh
Summary: All love is equal in paradise.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Loads of spoilers. Please mind the tags.

It’s the red slowly bleeding back into Saeran's white hair that finally forces Saeyoung to face how many weeks have passed and how little has changed. The more apparent it becomes, the harder it gets to acknowledge that he made a mistake. He told himself lies about saving Saeran from a place where they could have helped him, just because he was selfish and terrified of losing him again. 

He locked him up in a place where he can’t even see the sky. 

Saeran’s eyes aren’t lifeless and empty like Rika’s. They’re sad and they’re haunted. The more days Saeran spends miserably staring at the ceiling or digging his nails into his wrists until they bleed, the more exhausted he seems. He looks like he wants to give in to whatever he's trying to fight, and Saeyoung doesn’t know how to stop him. 

Saeyoung knows his friends are right when they tell him to take Saeran to the psychiatric ward, so he shuts them out and pretends not to hear them. 

The hardest part is admitting to himself that he’s failed Saeran yet again. 

That’s why, when he walks into the living room one morning to find Saeran smiling, a rush of naive hope surges through him. Perhaps everything is going to be okay after all. 

The smile stays when Saeyoung tells him good morning. Brightens, even. “Hey.” Saeran looks up at him. “I had a good dream.”

“So you slept well tonight?”

Saeran nods. “Come sit with me.” Saeyoung contemplates making Saeran eat something first since he’s still so weak, but his behaviour is so promising that he can’t help but rush over to the couch to listen. “I remembered things.”

“Things?”

“Don’t look so scared.” Saeran takes Saeyoung’s hands in his. He looks down at their linked fingers as if he only just met Saeyoung again for the first time this morning. “Things about when we were little. Do you remember that you used to say you knew me so well you could tell by my fingertips that something was wrong?”

Saeyoung nods. “You’d pretend to be confused and then you’d ask me if your fingertips looked sad.”

“Right. Do you remember what you’d do, then? You’d laugh, and then you’d do this.”

Saeran takes one of Saeyoung’s hands and raises it to mouth. His lips ghost against the pads of Saeyoung’s fingers as he presses featherlight kisses to them, one by one. Saeyoung’s fingertips tingle whenever he moves on to the next. “I remember,” he whispers. The discovery of the nearly lost memory is almost as powerful as the realisation that Saeran is finally allowing himself positive memories of growing up together. 

A sad smile tugs at Saeran’s lips. “It sounds really stupid, but I did that to myself after you...after you left. Whenever mum would torture or starve me, it would remind me that you existed. That you were thinking about me somewhere, and that maybe you’d return someday. Eventually, I stopped.”

The tears that have been forming fall down Saeyoung’s cheeks when he imagines Saeran trying to comfort himself like that, starved and alone under his torn blanket. “I’m...I’m so sorry Saeran.”

“I know.” Saeran rests his forehead against Saeyoung’s. It’s more physical contact than he’s allowed in all the time since they’ve been reunited. “Remember what else you did to comfort me?”

Saeyoung knows as soon as he feels Saeran’s breath against his lips. As his brother presses their mouths together, he tries to believe that this is innocent. Maybe Saeran doesn’t remember just how far they used to take this. But then their lips are moving together and when Saeran’s tongue tentatively slides against his own, Saeyoung tears himself away from yet another mistake. 

“We were just kids, Saeran. We didn’t know any better.”

After everything that happened, Saeyoung catches himself expecting to find anger or betrayal in Saeran’s eyes, but all there is to see is hurt. “In the end we weren’t. Not before you left.”

“Age doesn’t matter. We were sheltered. All we had was each other, and I just wanted to make you feel better…” Saeyoung’s voice breaks. “I didn’t know siblings weren’t supposed to kiss each other like that.”

“What if it isn’t wrong?” Suddenly Saeran’s eyes are shining with something other than tears. He smiles. “That’s what my dream was about.”

“About what?”

“Us, together. In paradise.” 

Saeyoung’s heart sinks. He knows Saeran has healing to do, but he didn't grasp until now just how much Rika shaped Saeran’s view of the world and how deeply rooted those beliefs still are. “Saeran...you know that Rika said those things because she was mentally ill, right? You need to try and come back to reality now.”

“No,” Saeran says, quiet but determined. “Everything was cold and dark before I was saved. If that’s supposed to be reality, I don’t want it.”

“Saeran…”

“Please, just listen. My dream finally made me understand. I used to think that I had to choose between you and paradise, but now I realise that I can never truly find paradise if you’re not there. And no one will care if we’re brothers. All love is equal in paradise, Saeyoung.”

He looks happy. It’s the same genuine, unbridled happiness that used to show on his face when Saeyoung would take him outside to look at the sun and the clouds. 

Saeyoung can’t destroy that. Not again. So he kisses him. 

It’s a kiss of comfort at first, although Saeyoung isn’t entirely sure which one of them it’s meant to soothe. Saeran’s mouth tastes sweet like home and bitter like regret, and when Saeyoung closes his eyes, he can taste the memory of strawberry ice cream on his tongue. The more heated the dance of their mouths becomes, the more disgusted Saeyoung becomes with himself for not feeling disgusted by his brother’s touch. 

Their clothes come off in fluid motions, and their bodies slot together perfectly like a puzzle that’s finally complete. With every thrust of their hips, the persona Saeyoung has so carefully constructed melts away until only the scared little boy, determined to protect his brother, is left. Between the gasps that leave their mouths, Saeyoung wonders why he isn’t relieved. All the jokes, the friendships he built—maybe not all of Luciel was a lie. 

Once their movements still, Saeyoung’s fingertips trace the black ink marking Saeran’s shoulder and the bones underneath his nearly translucent skin. He runs his hand through fine wisps of white hair and wonders why Saeran feels even more like a stranger now. But this is his brother, and he’s real. He’s here, and Saeyoung can’t lose him again. 

“Tell me about paradise,” he whispers against Saeran’s damp skin. 

Saeran’s eyes light up, and Saeyoung catches a glimpse of the little boy who held his hand as they named the shapes of the clouds. He closes his eyes and chases the memory as Saeran starts to speak.


End file.
